Trust You Any Way
by rookieD
Summary: (One-shot). Inspired by the events of 2.7 and 2.8. How do partners patch things up when trust is breached? Something went on between the hot-dog throwing tantrum and getting McNally to throw some punches in the ring!


_A/N: ONE-SHOT. Takes place between 2.7 and 2.8._

_Well. The plan originally was for this to be an M-rated AU. (Thanks to RB_Anon for suggesting this prompt, and to enits & Lissa who furthered the notion.) But, because I have particular feelings and thoughts, it came out as something…very different to that (sorry guys - but it is kind of sexytimes!). So. To cut a long story short. It's not entirely AU (well, at least not in my head.) _

_The thing I realized, is that whilst Andy may have been grumpy at the start of the following episode (2.8)…she and Sam definitely, definitely had patched up the tension over the whole Ray Nixon thing. How did that happen, I hear you ask? Well. This is roughly how. (Sure, sure Andy went home with Traci during the night in question…but I think we can all rest assure this maybe this happened if not that night, definitely the following night…;)_

Warning: As I felt it was still within the T jurisdiction, I should point out that there are still a few curse words and some sexual themes.

** Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue**

* * *

Sam kicks at some loose gravel as he heads across the car park; it's the longest damn walk of his life. He presses his thumb hard into the key to disengage the locks and only looks up when he hears the two beeps to alert him to the fact that he's nearing his destination.

He does real well not to let his jaw drop when he sees McNally and her droop-dog expression leaned up against the truck's bonnet. She's got her bag in her hands and appears to be refusing to look his way – even when he gets himself right in front of her. Sam is mirroring her defeated posture without putting too much effort into it at all.

"Trace isn't answering her phone," Andy tells him bluntly. She's mad as hell – still, for sure. But. She _does_ inspect Sam's face...eventually.

Sam inspects hers too. Her eyes are watery and bloodshot and she looks truly miserable, and so...completely worn out. He thinks McNally does exceptionally well not to burst into tears. From where Sam's standing the floodgates should've opened a long time ago. He swallows once and hard before he opens his mouth –

Andy puts a hand up to silence him before he can get any words out. She rolls her shoulders and stands up tall. "You've got two options here," she informs sternly. (God. Is she ever still mad.) "One. Take me to my dad's." McNally clears her throat and shuffles her feet. All of a sudden she's gone all the way back to unsure of herself...of anything. She glances at Sam one more time, but just as quickly her eyes go to a spot somewhere over his shoulder –

"Two. Your couch gets the pleasure of my company tonight." Andy flickers her eyes back in Sam's general direction again –

Eventually the two finally lock in a gaze that at least from Sam's perspective is not one like the teasing variety that they would normally share.

He moves from his spot slowly, the cool night air sending a chill down his spine. It's gone very quiet all of a sudden, except for the sound of his footsteps and the squeak of the passenger door as he swings it open. "Hop in."

* * *

"This doesn't mean you're forgiven." Andy's words are the first that are spoken inside the truck.

Even then, they only come out a block from Sam's.

Sam whispers a throaty: "I know", most of all to himself.

* * *

He trips over himself opening doors for her all about the place; a guided tour of his is the least she deserves. She's only been inside twice before; she didn't see a whole lot on either occasion.

(First time: the night of the plumbing emergency. After Maree's, he brought Andy here but only into his kitchen. He listened to her for a good two hours about her feelings on Callaghan and his _evidence_, before he dropped her back home.

Second time around…well, no one did much talking or listening at all _that_ particular night -

Sam's stomach churns at the memory. He really didn't handle things well that time either. How he let his_ thing_ for her get in the way of being a good TO -)

* * *

McNally appears to be twitching her mouth in an effort to conceal a smile as she looks around the guest room.

"Sarah's kids like to make themselves at home when they come to visit - " Sam tries on a casual explanation. (The room's got an eclectic mix of furniture, photos, and kid-friendly things that he's not going to admit to collecting himself).

Andy smiles reluctantly, but just small. She stops near the bed and puts her gear bag to the side on the floor. "Sam," she says in a tone that's about as soft as he's heard from her in god only knows how long. "I can sleep on the couch...if...if you'd prefer. I don't want to intrude -"

Sam has to admit to himself that it feels a little awkward having her here like this...where she can _see_ more of what he's about. He feels a very distinct and unsettling tilt in dynamic between them, truth be told. "No." Sam croaks – and keeps croaking. "I want...you to be comfortable here."

They're about five metres apart at this point, and have been for some time; Sam wedged just inside the door-frame because he knows it's holding him up.

Andy nods at him eventually, and lets out a sigh. "Um." She points a bony finger in the loose direction of the bathroom. "Would you mind if I had a shower tonight?"

Sam nudges a heel against the wall to kick himself off. "Not...not at all. There should be soap in there. I'll, ah. I'll get you a towel."

* * *

McNally enters Sam's kitchen about a half hour later. He can smell his soap on her from here... especially when she leans her elbows on the granite of his island bench.

Sam's senses crank up to oh, say: an 18 out of 10.

She's dressed in what Sam assumes is her gym gear; yoga pants and one of those skinny singlets he sees on her when they cross paths at the mats. The bruise on her neck stands out pretty bad under this light, which –

_Jesus._

Maybe he'll give McNally a pair of gloves tomorrow and let her hit him until it hurts.

"Smells good." Andy's face has softened incrementally again since she's been standing here watching him stir up some pasta sauce; a recipe he got from Noelle.

Sam turns a corner of his mouth upward but doesn't look at McNally – he just goes about his business of throwing some Penne into the water that's now on the boil.

* * *

They perch themselves on stools to eat. Under other circumstances Sam might turn some music or something on, the place is that damn quiet. But, yeah... it's not like this is a _date_. Still, he wouldn't mind something on. (Something other than his brain and it's incessant ticking at him). He feels like he's a bit of a stranger in his own home right now; like he's intruding on McNally and her thoughts and her anger at the world and Sam. He wants to tell her he knows he's an idiot, and that he's sorry...again. He just. Well. He gets the distinct feeling that if anything comes out, it's gonna keep sounding too cheap. Besides –

Not even McNally can beat Sam up over the debacle of Nixon attacking her, more than he is himself.

"You can cook," McNally says with a glance sideways, cutting through the quiet – her mouth still full with food.

Sam smiles to the point of a dimple appearance, and shoves some pasta down his face.

* * *

It's when they're washing up later, that Sam finally steps up to address the elephant in the room. He was hoping she'd scream or shout at him at some point, but, yeah –

It's killing him everywhere that she's even too exhausted for that.

"I didn't have your back, and I'm..." Sam gets his hands out of the warm, soapy water and rubs them against his jeans. "God, Andy. I'm sorry I didn't trust your instincts. I fucked up. And you nearly got killed."

McNally puts the plate she's been drying for the past minute or so down carefully. She turns to Sam slowly; this _air_ between them like Sam's never known. She nods in agreement a couple of times. "You did." Her voice is raspy and her eyes are pleading with him as though she might want to know _why_.

Sam shakes his head and casts his eyes. He _can't _tell her why. He can't tell her his brain gets blitzed every time he thinks about anything to do with her... and her love for Callaghan. (The guy may have cheated on her, but Sam knows the bastard will do_ anything_ to fix things with her. Why wouldn't he? She's worth..._everything_. They were going to get married, for fuck's sake...feelings like that don't just disappear -)

"I don't even know, Andy...I misread the situation. I thought your judgement was impaired..."

"Because of my feelings for Luke?" It's a little more like the McNally pitchy whine he knows, and it serves to loosen something in Sam's chest. She's got her eyebrows at different angles and she's looking at Sam like he's the world's biggest douche.

Sam nods and nods. And nods. "Yeah. Look. I know you trust..."

"I trusted _you_." Andy hisses and gets an index finger pointing sharp in Sam's chest. "The _only _thing I know about _Luke_ anymore is that he's a good detective, but_ you_..._you_ Sam...I trust _you_ with my life." She pokes and prods at Sam during the tirade – these sharp, angry enunciations that cut Sam to the bone. McNally's on her toes throughout the whole thing too; the two of them in one another's faces and all the way eye-to-eye. "_You're_ my partner," she finishes almost weakly; "And despite everything you've demanded of _me _before, _you_ weren't there when I needed you most."

Sam's backside hits a corner of a bench sharply, but he hardly feels the physical pain. He just focuses on keeping the eye contact with McNally, and tries to come to terms with what she's dishing out over here. He _knows_ however that he's not entirely at fault, and put it down to Sam's ego or whatever, but he's not going to let himself get completely destroyed –

He catches one of her wrists gently, mid-flight to connecting with his shoulder blade again. He puts on what is left of his calmest TO voice and tells her soft but firm: "Andy. I know I screwed up, okay. I'll understand if you don't trust me anymore...we can get you swapped to a new partner..you don't have to ride with me anymore..."

Andy's eyes go like saucers, which –

Yeah, Sam thinks she might not be enjoying that particular thought, but he can't let that distract him. He needs to finish this. "Obviously I shoulda known better...but you need to take a little more time before you go barging into these things _alone_... ever again."

McNally scowls at him and struggles to get her wrist released, but not so much of a struggle when Sam reaches out and puts his other hand around a muscly bicep of hers.

She blinks at him a couple of times and sucks in a sharp breath.

"McNally. I get that you were right. I get that I shoulda been there with you. But you're smart enough to know that you shoulda called Ollie, Noelle, anyone...and told them to cover your ass cause I was bein' a jerk." Sam laughs mirthlessly and shakes his head some more at himself. "They're well versed in this shit, you know?" (He suspects both Shaw and Williams are on a constant watch of the collateral damage that Sam is when he's not thinking straight.)

Andy frowns some more, but it looks like she might be accepting that this isn't 100% on Sam. 99, maybe...but no more than that. She rolls her eyes after a minute of them standing in the very same position in silence. She snorts and huffs...and then nods her head. "Fine," she says to Sam eventually. McNally jostles for him to loosen his grip a little and then her body relaxes – her hips tilting in –

Sam tries not to notice the body language. Very deliberately, he straightens his own posture and _doesn't_ pull her into him.

"But don't ever leave me again." Andy's gone all blinky and is biting on her lip; she is definitely on the emotional rollercoaster of her life. "God. Sam." She steps in and plants her face on his chest, which causes Sam to stiffen momentarily. "You're the one person I thought I could always count on...okay."

Sam closes his eyes and curses and hates himself badly for at least the twentieth time since Nixon wrapped his hands around McNally's pretty neck. He breathes out as Andy head butts his chest a few times and then wraps his arms around her gently and real, real light.

If he does any more than that, he could be in real trouble here –

He steps back from her slowly and lets go of everything once he's nodded his head in Andy's hair. (Sam really does want to convey that he'll try get his shit together for her). "You...ah...you should get some sleep..." Sam puts his hands in his pockets and bites hard at the inside of his cheek. "Um...anything I can get you before bed?"

McNally wipes under her eyes preventing an errant tear from running down her cheek too far. "No...um," she responds croakily. "Water, maybe?"

* * *

It's barely two hours later when Sam hears the light footsteps pad into his dark bedroom.

McNally's under his sheets within moments, her breathing ragged and her whole body like it's been short-circuited just moments before. "Bad dreams," she chokes out after a few goes. "Can I...can I just be here with you?"

Sam looks into the darkness and hopes she can't hear the pounding in his heart...hopes she can't sense the way his whole body is now on high alert. (It's probably just as well he threw a pair of boxers on at the last minute before getting into bed). "Sure, McNally. Anything you want," he assures her quietly, and as calm as he can -

When he hears her breathing start to regulate, his does too. The pair of them lay there in silence, gradually, gradually their pulse rates go to a rest.

Sam swallows real hard when he feels two of her fingers reach over and hook lightly around two of his own.

He waits until she falls asleep, and then waits some more.

Sam wants to make sure he's ready for any more bad dreams...but if they do come to her, they don't come out loud.

* * *

It's just after 6 in the morning when Sam wakes up, just before his alarm. He can't remember when he did fall asleep last night, but the way he's so tired – he figures it wasn't that long ago.

Aside the fact that the sun hasn't made an appearance just yet, the most obvious thing about the way he's been woken up this morning is the way McNally has stolen all of the bed. And, that's not the only thing...

She's half on top of Sam.

One of her legs is hooked between his and her knee is –

Maybe nudging a little too high.

Sam holds his breath and wonders whether, or how to make a move without waking her up.

In the end, he figures it's going to be impossible – one of her arms presents an obstruction as well.

He must stir a little without thinking (could be the numb joint from the weight she's pressing in) – because next thing Andy is rubbing her face against his pillow and murmuring an undecipherable greeting of sorts.

"McNally?" Sam tests, but not on anyone's earth does he know what he will follow it up with.

Andy clears her throat and raises her head minutely, and then promptly goes into shock.

* * *

They've been frozen in the same position for some time before Sam finally decides he's going to test the waters again. He tries very hard to keep himself from grinning, because, after all –

What she went through with Nixon was crap. But –

He lets out a quick flash of a smile as a compromise, in a real effort to settle her nerves about their...situation here. "Sleep well?"

Andy scowls at Sam and looks their tangled bodies up and down.

"Hey." Sam interjects, realizing she's going to pin the blame on him. "_I'm_ underneath." He gives her a slightly bigger grin. "You are one messy sleeper, McNally."

Andy peers through some half closed eyes and goes into damage control. Obviously, she's decided that it's a distraction Sam needs. "Make me coffee," McNally demands with a glare.

Sam raises his eyebrows way up high. He'd actually do anything for this girl this morning, but –

"No problem," he gives her his toothiest smile and some wide eyed exchange. "But to do that. You're gonna have to stop tryin' to climb me...again..."

The "again" popped out accidentally (images of that damn blackout will never leave Sam's frontal lobe). And, well...he could be in a whole lot of trouble here.

He cops a bit of a knee – before McNally realizes where that just hit.

Her mouth opens and promptly traps itself shut. The blush she gets on her is completely endearing, but Sam cannot be thinking about that particular fact right now –

Sam puts a hand on her hip cautious, super careful not to rub with his thumb. He doesn't move a muscle anywhere when he feels her flesh goosebump there... he simply takes the time to lift her leg off him – using the TO face he would on Epstein when he tells the kid to go get him some lunch.

McNally's leans right into him as he does it – for all the world he thinks she's going to kiss him then and there. "Sam…" she squeaks softly as they both breathe hard and her fingers fidget on his chest. (He really should've thought to put a shirt on at the same time as the boxers -).

Sam looks up at her face tentatively; all the while his hand still on her leg. Andy inches in closer still – her lips open just enough to reveal her tongue.

Sam wants very, very badly to kiss her. He wants to put his mouth on her and to make her feel good over and over again.

To make matters worse, McNally closes her eyes and tilts her chin so that it's undeniable as to exactly what she's angling for here.

"Andy...we shouldn't," he murmurs after what feels like hours...so close to her mouth she could bite through the words.

McNally looks up at him with a few different expressions; confusion, anger...and something almost heartbroken Sam thinks.

He gets it, he does. God knows how many times he's confronted death only to desperately want to be made feel alive. Still. The issue with McNally is even more complex than that; she's suffered rejection and betrayal, and Sam's pretty sure that's a cocktail for wanting..._needing_...to prove that she actually _is_ worthy of love.

The thing is: Sam's been the rebound guy plenty of times. (It suits him actually, the way they move on after that). But. Well. It could be that Sam might find the thought of seeing McNally move on with someone other than him...a little harder than all those past hook-ups combined. Still –

The look on McNally's face kills him; it's like she thinks Sam _doesn't _want her –

So. Because he has to do or say _something _to rectify that -

Sam slides his hand up to rest warm on her waist and then leans the next centimetre in so he can brush his nose to hers.

He hears McNally exhale in this sigh that is…a promise in return, maybe? She blinks her eyes open and gives him a regretful smile. "Yeah…yeah…you're right."

Sam wants so desperately to tell her a thousand things – like how he'll keep waiting for her until she's ready, until she actually does want him for more than a means to feel good about herself. He wants to tell her that she's beautiful and special and awesome…but he knows deep down, that telling her that now would be mis-timed and both of them taking advantage of parts of the other that they want. But, Sam also knows that he just –

He really feels a _lot_ for her and he wants her to know.

Sam's hand continues its journey along the length of her; all the way up to her neck and her cheek. He closes his eyes for two seconds and then moves his hand into her hair. He hates right now that he's a man that can't find exactly the right words, so instead of that all he is left with is to nudge his nose at Andy's again, and bump his forehead soft to rest on hers.

* * *

They stay like that for minutes. Sam's pretty certain they're the most beautiful seconds that he's ever experienced in his whole entire life. The room around them has taken on a different air again to moments ago, or the night before. "He wasn't right for you," Sam whispers so quiet she might not even hear. "Everything's gonna be okay."

Sam feels a tiny tear from McNally that she shares right on his face. After the longest of pauses again, Andy nods slow. "It is," she mutters in an audible breath that lingers with one of his own. "It really is."

They lock eyes with one another slow and steady, and Sam hopes like anything that he's a part of that...whatever_ it_ is.

Sooner or later the two of them unclench their hands from one another - so they're no longer conjoined.

* * *

Sam rolls onto his back after another minute or so, the breathing of the pair of them both finally shallowing out. He clears his throat not so gently and goes no nonsense so he can get his head back in the reality of _now_. "Go have a shower, McNally. I'll fix us that coffee you want." (Sam is _not_ walking across the damn room in all his glory while ever she's got a good view.)

He tries not to let out a loud breath of relief when she appears to get the message, shuffling her body upward and nodding her head. (And keeps nodding). Eventually her long limbs scramble in different directions and she races across to the exit, giving Sam one final glance and blush of the cheeks as she ducks through the door.

* * *

McNally ambles into the kitchen some half hour later; her wet hair and bare feet making her look like she _belongs_ in Sam's place.

His heart does a weird, trippy thing before he looks back at the stack of pancakes he's created. "You, uh. You hungry?" Sam's reasonably sure he's kept the nerves out of his voice.

Andy's right the heck beside him before she gives an answer. She smells like autumn and a seductive array of spices that Sam can't quite put his finger on; coupled with the pancakes in front of him, he thinks he could be in heaven right now.

When he turns on a heel to check in as to whether any words actually came out of her mouth, she's just staring at him like –

Well. Sam doesn't know what.

He's pretty sure they're good now…and that at least some things have an unwritten understanding between them….but it looks like McNally might not have finished with everything she ever wanted to say.

"I know this might be inappropriate between two colleague-slash-buddies about to share breakfast…" Andy's voice is soft and quiet and has a hint of doubt.

She pushes to her toes slowly and puts one firm hand on Sam's shoulder while she plants a delicate kiss on his cheek. When McNally drops down again she's still staring at Sam's face, and biting her lip. "Thanks…for last night…and for this morning…and for all of _this_…" Andy gestures around to the breakfast items, and then looks straight back at him. "And for what it's worth…yeah, um…I realize I didn't admit it last night…I shouldn't have gone in their alone."

Sam nods slowly and turns off the heat. He cocks his head in the direction of the eating area and then gives her a smile.

"We're good, Andy. We're good."

McNally smiles one of her crooked ones back at him and nods her head real pleased.

* * *

Things from there go relaxed and comfortable; both of them sitting in silence and eating for the most part. Every now and then McNally pipes up with something or other about where to from here for her. She seems to have developed a whole plethora of plans and aspirations for herself since the split from Callaghan; finding herself a place of her own and moving on with her career being top of the list.

Sam nods and agrees with her at regular increments, even encourages her to look at different options in the Force. He knows the _potential_ she shows.

Sooner or later Sam butts in, mostly because he doesn't want to hear any more just yet.

He reminds her that he wants a quick shower before they head off to work. "Mm. Mm." McNally tries to agree through her last forkful of pancakes. "Go. Go. I'll clean up…"

* * *

He stands under the cold water for a little too long when he does get there – lets the hard spray go full force on his face.

Sam wonders what might happen next for them. He wonders if one of them might slip up before she's ready…and things between them will get real weird and hard.

Sam hopes not. McNally is one of the few people he likes to be partnered with at work…well, she's his favourite partner if he's completely honest with himself.

* * *

They tease and jest on the way into 15 that day, the pair of them mocking the rest of the world. Sam notices that Andy is paying particular attention to young couples and screwing up her nose, so he takes great pleasure in telling her about other horrible break-ups at Division 15.

It's only when she spots Callaghan rifling through his desk that her mood turns sour again. "C'mon Swarek," she grumbles sourly as she yanks at Sam's duty belt. "You and me and the big, bad world. Let's go hit those streets."

Sam raises some eyebrows, grins big, and throws McNally the keys to the cruiser. He figures that _might_ perk her back up. "Right behind you, partner."

Andy beams in return.


End file.
